


Can't Be Good at Everything

by JantoJones



Series: Further Brief Briefings [28]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 23:46:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16753762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones





	Can't Be Good at Everything

As the orange light of the early morning dawn gave way to clear blue skies, Napoleon Solo couldn’t help but be struck by the beauty of their surroundings.

“It’s no wonder they call it the Emerald Isle,” he stated, staring out of the window of their stationary vehicle.

In the driver’s seat, Illya looked out across the lush green landscape of County Cork, Ireland. The place truly was spectacular, and it more than made up for the ridiculously early start.

“How long before the courier is due?” he enquired.

Napoleon glanced at his watched and told Illya that the man should arrive within the next five minutes.

“Do you remember the code phrase?”

Illya gave Napoleon a look which would have had other men squirming on the spot, and pointed out that he wasn’t a rookie. Solo smiled at his partner’s annoyance and prompted him to say the phrase anyway.

“I’ll dance with the devil and thank him.”

“You forgot the accent,” Napoleon told him. “It’s part of the code.”

“Oi’ll dance wit de divil n tank him.”

“What was that?!” asked Solo, flabbergasted at just how terrible Illya’s attempt at an Irish accent was. “You sounded like a cartoon leprechaun.”

Illya scowled. “It was what you asked for,” he snapped.

“If you speak like that around here, you’ll get us shot.”

“I would like to hear you do better,” Illya challenged. “I am far more adept with things such as this than you are.”

The Russian knew that, although the American could speak and understand several languages, his aptitude with accents was sorely lacking; especially when it came to French.

“My dear Illya,” Napoleon said, in a tone which set the blond even more on edge. “Your ability with accents is second to none, but you can’t be good at everything. I’d better do the talking on this handover.”

Illya huffed. He wasn’t a proud man as such, but he did have pride in the things he was good at.

“I am still waiting to hear you do it,” he said, sulkily.

To Illya’s eternal astonishment, Napoleon repeated the phrase with an absolutely perfect Cork accent. Illya narrowed his eyes in suspicion, which cause Solo to laugh, almost uncontrollably.

“How does a man, who is as dreadful with accents as you, manage to do such an exceptional Irish one?”

Napoleon smiled knowingly, debating with himself whether to let Illya in on the secret. As much as he was tempted to keep him in the dark, Napoleon decided that he didn’t fancy the idea of travelling with a sulky Russian.

“My grandmother was born here,” he revealed, before laughing once again at Illya’s expression.


End file.
